To Lady Gridborough's intense satisfaction and delight, the sun shone brightly on Celia who, as the oldest inhabitant declared, was the most beautiful bride that had ever stood before the altar of the old church. One wedding is monotonously similar to another; and on this occasion there was nothing to distinguish Derrick's and Celia's, save the fact that the bridegroom had only just been acquitted of a criminal charge and had been discovered to be the heir to a marquisate; but the crowd which filled the church and gathered outside, felt these facts to be important ones, and they cheered the bride and bridegroom as they emerged from the church, husband and wife.
In the circumstances, it was not possible that there should be any festivities at the Hall—they would come later, all felt, when the happy couple returned from their honeymoon. There was an affecting scene when Derrick and Celia stood beside the bed of the injured man. But as he took Derrick's hand, and signed to Celia to bend down that he might kiss her, there was, plainly, an expression of relief in the dying man's wasted face. The great wrong had been set right; the elder brother restored to his own, his son, this handsome, erect young fellow, with the frank and honest eyes, established, or on the way to being established, as the heir.
The old man, lying there, a statesman and an aristocrat, recognized the responsibilities of his position, all that was due to the great family of which he had supposed himself the head; and that due was now being paid. As he blessed them both, his hand sought that of his elder brother, whom he had put in his proper place, and his eyes turned affectionately, restfully, to his.
Of course, Lady Gridborough and Reggie had been invited to the breakfast, which was disposed of somewhat hurriedly; for there was a train to catch. There were no speeches; they were not necessary; Lady Gridborough did most of the talking, breaking off now and then, sometimes to smile happily at Derrick and Celia, at others to wipe her eyes; for Lady Gridborough, at a wedding, was always hovering between smiles and tears.
They gathered in the hall, waiting for Celia to appear in her travelling dress; and presently she came down, radiant, blushing; but, before she went to her husband, she drew Reggie aside.
"I want to ask you to take a message from me to Susie," she whispered. "Tell her that I saw her in the church this morning; tell her that I shall always love her, and that some time—before long, I hope—we shall meet." Reggie, very red, and looking very happy, nodded. "And will you give her this as a wedding present?"
He opened the small case she slipped into his hand, and saw a pendant in the form of a ruby heart set round with diamonds. It was not a very costly gift, though doubtless it would seem so in Susie's eyes. But Reggie understood all it meant; the emblem of affection, warm and glowing; and again he could only nod.
Derrick's last word was with his father. The two men stood, with hands enclasped, looking at each other in a mute exchange of affection and trust.
"You will not be away too long?" said the father. "You are needed here." He glanced upwards towards his brother's room. "And I need you too, Derrick—my son that was lost and is found." He paused, then he added, "Tell her that it shall rest with her."
Derrick gave the hand a pressure of comprehension.